


Spider's Silk

by psychosomatic86



Category: Dirk Gently - All Media Types, Dirk Gently - Douglas Adams, Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, I LOVE DYING AND BEING DEAD, M/M, the interconnectedness of all things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 07:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9311534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychosomatic86/pseuds/psychosomatic86
Summary: The interconnectedness of all things.That is what he saw.At first in the dust.Now in the dusk.The twilight of his best friend’s life.And it’shorrificallybeautiful...





	

Sometimes he can recall, can faintly reminisce on the fractures of his memory - his shattered past - on times before and safely beyond the reach of so many cruel hands, their distorted knuckles cackling as they pulled and drew his noose closer, peeled back his corneas until his eyes tore his throat apart from the screams of _too much_.

The day they first came, he glimpsed _it_ in full in the shadows of the anemic sunlight, in those malnourished rays that shivered as they tried to carry dust agitated by squealing car tires. He tried to help as he was dragged into one of the monstrous, black vehicles, his malnourished, _shivering_ fingers reaching out to catch the glittering particles…

And he saw it.

A singular burst, like his vision had suddenly punched the world through with a jigsaw laser.

A spiraling chaos of tangles and knots, of colors indiscernible and incomprehensible.

And in this madness, he saw the dust as vividly as one would a black hole, invisible, at first, and then wrenchingly real as his hand crossed the event horizon, as bones and sinews stretched and pulled themselves apart until they were nothing but threads woven back into the universe.

He saw these threads, dripping down from the dust.

His fingers passed through them.

They continued their descent, unperturbed.

And the dust followed, dutifully.

He wanted to help the dust, but the dust could only follow the threads, and he could not help the threads.

It’s like that now.

When he focuses hard enough on the things he truly and desperately wants to save, he can see their strings, like spider’s silk encapsulating buildings and bodies and dust motes, _ensnaring_ them in a fate he can never stymie no matter how _dutifully_ he begs and pleads the universe.

The interconnectedness of all things.

That is what he saw.

At first in the dust.

Now in the dusk.

The twilight of his best friend’s life.

And it’s _horrifically_ beautiful -

\- as he focuses hard enough and sees the colors of the strings.

His friend’s, his _best_ friend’s, is a soft, slate grey, composed but malleable, hanging limp in his hands as the universe dictates.

It’s the only time the universe allows him contact with connectedness, when it’s being broken.

It won’t comply any other time.

And he tries to never entertain the idea that this is because it’s _always_ his fault, the disconnection.

Instead, he gently runs his fingers over the thread, follows it to his friend’s wrists, lifts them, kisses away the blood.

Follows it to his chest, feels the warm rhythm there growing cold and tired.

To his mouth, half parted and emitting sad little noises he can never kiss away.

His eyes filming over.

 _Threads_.

Somewhere in his hollow chest, a thread the color of a stilled heartbeat anchors itself dutifully, tied in a neat little knot that will never come loose. And this thread, the color of a stilled heartbeat, anchoring itself to a heart still beating...

It’s strangling him.

**Author's Note:**

> Death Wih Dignity by Sufjan Stevens is a very good song, 10/10 would recommend
> 
> (Also woot woot! This angst fest is the 100th fic on here!)


End file.
